


So What if I Killed Him

by Napkin32



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional, F/M, Love, Murder, POV First Person, Psychopaths In Love, Revenge, references to rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Napkin32/pseuds/Napkin32
Summary: I didn't do anything wrong, so what if I killed him. He deserved it all.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	So What if I Killed Him

**Author's Note:**

> I might make another scene of this story between the main character and Samantha when he's in prison. Sorry if this story seems sort of rushed. I'm stilling working out kinks in my writing.

“So what if I killed him?” I implored while relaxing on the metal chair.

“Mr. Randolph you killed a man-”, Officer Stevens responded, becoming progressively more agitated.

“No, no. If I killed him. You don’t have any evidence,” I interrupted smiling. I did kill him. But why would I admit it? Best thing that’d get me is being thrown in a metal cage for life.

“Mr. Randolph. Please stop joking. A man is dead,” Stevens continued exasperatedly. You know, he began quite stoic. He was very upsettingly lacking in emotion. But a few hours of circling around the same questions is sure to drive anyone mad. Well not anyone, I’m still fine. Him though, he’s not very happy right now, missing out on his donuts and whatever Miss Stay-at-home has decided to put on for him, I suppose.

“No, of course. I would never joke about something so serious.” My smile disappeared as my face transformed into an expression of mock concern. He wasn’t buying it. But oh well. He wasn’t supposed to.

“Anyways, you have to understand. You are the most likely-” Stevens tried to explain again.

“Going to prison? Only if I’m proven guilty. You’ve been saying it for the last three hours. But do say it again, I’m definitely busy, and this is your job. So come on, tell me again. Ask me anything!” I laughed. In honesty, I’m getting annoyed. I mean, yes, he is right. I did kill the man. But he was a bastard and an ass. To think he could touch my friend. He was drunk out of his mind, but that only makes it worse. He scared and hurt my friend, so I made him hurt.

“Please, Mr. Randolph, just answer my questions and we can both be on our way.” Stevens pleaded, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“I’ve already answered your questions. So I’d like to leave now if I could.” I snapped back. Honestly, who does he think he is? We’ve been here for three plus hours, and he still asks the same questions. If you’re going to keep me here this long, at least ask some new questions. Maybe give details about the scene; probe me. Not that I need any details though. I remember every last bit. The way I sliced his groin open. The way I put a rusted nail through his hand and then sawed off each finger of his other. Oh the way he screamed. But what can I say? Karma’s a bitch.

“Excuse me?” Stevens suddenly asked. What? Did he hear me?

“What do you mean?” I replied with the best expression of calmness I can.

“Did you just say something to me?” Stevens questioned.

“No, of course not.” I smiled back.

“Good, now once again, answer me. Why did you kill Craig Barnelow?” Stevens pressed.

“I swear to god. Are you a kindergartener? Let me spell this out for you. I… did… not… kill… Craig… Barnelow.” I’m getting annoyed now. “Besides, the bastard had it coming to him. He raped Sam! She’s been a rambling wreck since nearly two weeks now and god knows for how long more. I’d thank the man who murdered the asshole.” That proclamation calmed my nerves. But judging by the cop’s face, I was not about to be let go anytime soon after giving a more than concrete motive. Shit...

“Where were you at the time of the murder?” Stevens suddenly inquired.

“Moonbucks coffee shop. Getting a vanilla latte.” I answer, smiling again. I have every detailed pinned down. I may have slipped on a motive but he won’t be pinning me at the scene.

“Interesting, but I never gave you the time of death did I?” Stevens began smiling.

Fuck. “The death happened yesterday I’d assume. And I spent most of the day at the café. Free wifi is nice, you know. And so what? I was there yesterday, he died yesterday. There, alibi!” I snapped impatiently. I needed to make it look like an accident. He couldn’t think I knew the time of death.

With a smile on that repulsive mouth of his, he continued, “But I never told you it happened yesterday.”

“When else would it have happened? I’m assuming you cops aren’t waiting a week after the murder to begin questioning people,” I retort.

“We have a few days of bureaucracy.”  
“You’re lying to me. He died yesterday, I know it,” He was. I know for a fact he died yesterday. I killed him after all.

“Why are you so sure? I’ve never mentioned his time of death or even date of death.” The smile was growing wider.

“Use that massive head of yours and think logically. Why the hell would I only be questioned now if he didn’t die recently. You’re inefficient but I doubt you’re that neglectful,” Could we move on yet? We’re drawing circles. Circles growing tighter.

“Alright, let’s move on,” I released a sigh of relief. Which judging by the twitch that flashed across his face, he might have heard. But then his smirk returned, “Let’s now talk about the Miss Sam you mentioned earlier,”

How dare he. Who does he think he is to bring her into this conversation. “What do you want to know about her?” I ask while making a poor attempt at feigning nonchalance.

“Who is she? What is your relationship with her?” The officer answered.

“She’s a friend,” She’s my best friend. We had each other’s backs. I loved her, but then the other night just had to happen.

“Elaborate please,” The officer pressed.

“She’s a friend, nothing more,” The one time I couldn’t be there. She was walking on the street to my apartment. Craig then jumped her, pulling her into the alley. It was night; no one saw anything.

“You mention she was raped by the victim,” This bastard…

“Don’t call him the fucking victim! She’s the victim. Not him. He had what was coming, and I hope he suffered every bit.” By the time I found her it was too late. Sam was never late. She was always on time. Eventually, I left my apartment and began pacing back and forth on the street in front. If she was late, that means something must have happened. Something possibly bad. While passing by an alley, I heard a crying and a whimpering. I turned my head expecting to see some child with a scraped knee.

“If she was raped, why was a report never filed,” Stevens questioned.

“Oh hell, a report was filed alright, but I doubt it didn’t make it very far up the chain. They never do, do they? No witnesses, one person’s word against another. You’re all too busy to deal with it. Got better thing to do don’t you,” Any worry I had was quickly turning into renewed anger.

When I saw her, her disheveled look gave away what happened. First I felt sadness. Part from my own failure to save her. Part from seeing her situation. Then it turned into anger. Who dared touch her? Where is he now? I got her to the hospital, got her help that night. But it didn’t do much for her mental state. She was seeing therapy but I’m not sure how much it was helping. She was staying with me for the time being and over the course of a few days, I eventually managed to pull together a description of the person and what happened. For the next nearly two weeks, I tracked the man down. Hunted him. And killed him. HIs body is but a dismembered mess now. I wanted him to feel every bit of pain I could possibly make him. God knows how many hours I worked on him. Five, six? Maybe up to eight. They’ll never find an accurate time of death. I kept him in a state where he should have been dead but kept living for hours. Organ by organ, limb by limb he lost, but I made sure he never bled out, not until I was finished.

“So you killed him in revenge for raping Sam?” The officer was putting the pieces together. But no, he still couldn’t pin anything on it.

“He deserved it!” Shit… I spoke before thinking.

“So you did kill him then?” The officer’s disgusting smirk was back. He has everything.

“No… no I didn’t,” Maybe I could pull it back, but no. The moment I slipped for the first time, was when he knew he was on the right person.

“Mr. Randolph, you are under arrest for the murder of Craig Barnelow,” That self-satisfied look on his face. “I suggest you have your affairs sorted. You’ll most likely be facing first-degree murder and through it, life in prison,”

“Hahaha… fuck you, bastard. Good game… I have everything sorted. I don’t care now,” I was defeated. My life is over. But, I still don’t regret what I did. I’m glad Barnelow’s dead, and I was the one to end his miserable life. I have nothing left anyways; minus Samantha, I’m alone. I already left her everything I owned. Maybe she’ll come visit me when she’s better someday.


End file.
